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Isn't it rich?
|
Are we a pair?
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Me here at last on the ground,
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You in mid-air..
|
Where are the clowns?
|
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Isn't it bliss?
|
Don't you approve?
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One who keeps tearing around,
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One who can't move...
|
Where are the clowns?
|
Send in the clowns.
|
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Just when I'd stopped opening doors,
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Finally knowing the one that I wanted was yours.
|
Making my entrance again with my usual flair
|
Sure of my lines...
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No one is there.
|
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Don't you love farce?
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My fault, I fear.
|
I thought that you'd want what I want...
|
Sorry, my dear!
|
And where are the clowns
|
Send in the clowns
|
Don't bother, they're here.
|
|
Isn't it rich?
|
Isn't it queer?
|
Losing my timing this late in my career.
|
And where are the clowns?
|
There ought to be clowns...
|
Well, maybe next year.
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|
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-----------------
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Send In The Clowns
|
Judy Collins |